


A Beautiful Friendship

by DannyBarefoot



Series: What we do in the Shadows [3]
Category: 1Q84 - Murakami Haruki, Shadowrun, Shadowrun: Dragonfall
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Badly Advised Masochism, Bechdel Test Pass, Bisexuality, Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, Casual Sex, Cheating, Condoms, Crimes & Criminals, Cunnilingus, Cyberpunk, Double Penetration, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Female Friendship, Fivesome - F/F/M/M/M, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Friends to Lovers, Gangs, Group Sex, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Interracial By Fantasy Standards, Lesbian Sex, Magic, Masochism, Masturbation, Misogyny, Oral Sex, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex Magic, Sex Work, Sexual Violence, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, gay angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27898444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannyBarefoot/pseuds/DannyBarefoot
Summary: Elf girl meets oni girl, in the Shadows. In a Sixth World severely deficient in both sense and kindness, there was nothing for them to want but happiness.Edit - small significant rewrite at end of chapter 3, covering Ayumi's sexual experiences during her time with Lone Star
Series: What we do in the Shadows [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612357
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story inspired by prompts on Tumblr from Mithryl-draws. Aria Landers, who appeared briefly in 'The Fighter's Story', originated in 'Wolf Runners' a Shadowrun Dragonfall UGC, as the kind of unusually helpful NPC who'll hire a starting character for an easy job, help them complete it, and even sleep with them (offscreen) if they're that way inclined. Ayumi 'Gozen' Sakata, (headcanon family name) originated as a female Japanese police officer in Haruki Murakami's novel '1Q84'. My description of Ayumi's skills and sexual proclivities are accurate to the novel, and my reasons for recreating her as a shadowrunner very similar, to a lesser degree, to my motivation for recreating Susan 'Fighter' Lei.

Aria Landers (28, elvish bunette, bisexual, single) had gone through a great deal to set up her own talismongery business in the better part of Renton. When megacorps bestrode the world like colossi, even if the bespoke touch was still valued when it came to magic, sometimes an independent businesswoman had to bow and submit to survive. When a shabby punk crew of Halloweeners came round offering 'protection', and murdering guards on your block, to prove it needful…then that wasn’t one of those times.

Lone Star didn’t take on gangs directly without serious nyuyen, but Aria was a busy woman in need of efficient solutions. Who’d retained a few contacts from her brief and successful run in the Shadows. Her old Fixer’s protégé located the Halloweeners chapter house, and sent the bodyguard she’d requested to meet her there.

 _Gozen_. Ayumi Sakata.

Aria had checked Ayumi's cred, done her legwork--but she barely kept her cool, as the big oni girl swung a thick, shapely leg off her bike. _Gozen_ meant warrior woman. Ayumi had a baseball ball on one shoulder and a shotgun on the other. A fashionably high 2050’s ponytail dancing between her horns as she stepped forward. A Lone Star body armour suit, skintight black, with all insignia torn off--Aria wanted to tear it all off, right there in a filthy alley at the heart of Seattle. In all her busy years of women and men, plenteous passion and want, Aria had never desired anyone so much as this oni. Her knees practically shook, and a thumping pulse pressed her skin tight as a drum. 

“Huh? _Ex-_ Star, don’t worry.” Ayumi met Aria’s stare with a puzzled grin, “Drek work; nothing but pounding pavement, slugging stray chipheads. Feels good to finally clean up the streets. Um, hey, your legs look novahot in that skirt, but are you ready for this?”

“I was born ready.”

Yes, this was a shadowrun. Plans and points of entry, these were more to the purpose than what they were wearing–though Aria still wished she’d worn a sexier suit and thought of a better line. In a scummy alley next to a warehouse full of gangers they were about to kill or be killed by–it was hardly the time to gaze over every inch of trim, tremendous curves, firm with muscle, and that broad, adorably guileless face. That Aura blazing ardent red in harmony with her skin, like the radiance of a demon sex goddess...hardly the time. 

Deep breaths. Control. She hadn’t had sex in months, what with all the work her ambitions as a business owner demanded, let alone had time to find love with a good man or woman, should such creatures still exist–no, the point was, she could be a hard-nosed ex-shadowrunner and combat shaman for the next few very important minutes. Not a lovestruck schoolgirl, not right now. 

The Halloweeners only had two sentries in the alley outside the warehouse–street punks could be such amateurs. Aria had heard the Japanese expression for a double threat–‘Oni with a club’–but never fully grasped the meaning until Ayumi dashed in with huge strides and swung her bat through both heads, shining with the Haste spell Aria had cast over her.

-0-

The final shotgun blast died away–along with the Halloweeners’ skull-masked boss, smashed like a pumpkin beneath the back-wall’s orange flag. The silence left by gunshots and Flamestrikes settled within a cloud of their burning, bloody perfume, over the cleared chapter house.

Aria winced at her own imagery, over what it was better to think of as a strictly business matter, if it hadn’t been a tragic massacre. This crew of street-scum had threatened her business, her own little place she’d built, and killed two reasonably blameless guards. She’d read on the newsfeeds what the Halloweeners did to anyone caught on the streets after dark, for fun, and seen their work–the poor souls they’d made into their work–several times in her Shadow years. Wiping out scum like these made the world a better place; even their own gang brothers wouldn’t do much more than laugh at their stupidity, getting killed by shadowrunners.

Still…some of the ‘weeners had been in their teens. Already vicious little monsters that had shot and slashed to kill her, naturally…no, nothing was natural here. Aria had noticed the cuts and burn scars under their evil-clown paint. Sitting down in a burning building for twenty minutes by the watch was only the initiation to years of hazings, abuse and contempt. Until you were a bigger monster than the monsters that had made you. The Cutters or the Spikes held out manhood to dumb, unbroken kids from Redmond and Puyallup–but for too many children whose families rotted alive in slums, while Renraku execs toasted champagne, a monster was all they wanted to be. Burning stray cats to death, stray _people_ –Aria had seen those marks and traces too, throughout the locker-room stinking warehouse with blood and bodies flung against the bunkbeds–was _not_ the sane response to an insane world. Nothing was; that was the point.

Frag, killing gangers made her so maudlin. It was a mad, sad world–didn’t that meant it was time to find someone to love?

Aria raised her weary, beautiful violet eyes to her beautiful _Yojimbo_. Ayumi had thrown herself down on a rotten, now-broken couch, and cracked open a beer from the gang’s icebox with her thumb. When Aria dropped a credstick in her lap, told her she’d more than earned it, the oni girl grinned like a young Runner who’d closed her first job, _Arctic_. Aria personally recalled that it had been very sweet.

If it had been unusually reckless of her to employ a greenhorn–the fixer had praised Ayumi’s talent to the skies, regardless, but fixers always did– _propositioning_ the hired killer you’d shared about five desperately intense minutes of your life with had to be the dumbest action conceivable. Ayumi might not even like other women–Aria had gotten into some very ugly trouble with faulty gaydar before. Or with men, being the idiots men were, with women who could be just as cruel, and with herself no better than any but the worst of them. It might be for the best, no, it certainly would be, if she drove home as Ayumi rode off out of her life. Took a cold shower, curled up with a nice red wine and the trideo romance of a Tir Duchess and her maidservant-bodyguard…

…but her blood was up. She didn’t want to take control of this. Her heart was still pounding, just as when Ayumi had thundered into the Halloweeners. Swinging and striking at a ganger aiming his sawed-off at Aria–glancing back, in light of Aria’s summoned fire spirit, to make sure her girl was safe? Now, she was stretched out like a red lioness and Aria just wanted to be _devoured_. Curves swelling with life like the tide, vast breasts pressed against her flak-jacket, the words throbbing from Aria’s heart to her parting lips…

“Well, then. Why don’t we both retire to a hotel and wash off the filth of this place?”

“Perfect end to a perfect run.” Ayumi knocked her beer back, grinned through her pretty little tusks, “Eh, with a couple of hot guys, it’d be better than perfect.”

“…I suppose so.”

A bitter tremor passed through Aria’s slim body. She fought with all her strength not to cry, though she was sure even John Wayne would’ve shed a single, manly tear.

“First real shadowrun.” Ayumi rumbled on; she seemed not to be the most observant girl, “That deserves a celebration, right? Frag, I mean, you were right there with me, novahot! You’re not just a pretty face; you never even flinched. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Through the roaring pink fog of lust, Aria perceived Ayumi grasping her little hand. The red oni sat up on the couch; spoke blithe and easy as a 300lb schoolgirl making a playdate with her bestie.

“How about we go to a swanky hotel in Bellevue? Clean up, pick up a couple of guys–or three, or four? We could make a game of it, before we make a night of it. You deserve a night out too–'scuse me saying, but it feels like you need to cut loose a bit. Have some fun–honestly, you’re a beautiful elf, even beautiful for an elf. Guess this ain’t the typical thing for Johnsons and Runners to do; but I got this feeling as we fought together, Miss Landers. You’re not any kind of a typical person.”

“…okay then. But please, call me Aria.” The elf woman lowered her eyes, glanced up under her lashes, with a weary but hope-filled smile, “Beginning of a beautiful friendship?”

In her years as a bisexual wageslave, shadowrunner and independent tailsmonger, Aria had enjoyed or endured some unusual experiences. Going out on the pull with this grinning, devilish woman who she wanted more madly than she’d wanted any man in her life…would be one of the stranger ones; but better than being called a disgusting dyke and broken in half. Any way the cards fell, a green shadowrunner and practically legitimate businesswoman could never have love between them; that insane, unthinkable danger. Only sex, in a way, or in as many ways as possible. 

Perhaps this was a foray into _masochism_ , of a sort? How pleasureful that would be, she would not be waiting long to find out… 


	2. Chapter 2

After swinging by her apartment to grab some essentials (She was not inviting any shadowrunner back to her _casa_ , however charming, at least not tonight), Aria took a cab. Met Ayumi outside the Imperial Hotel in Bellevue. Guileless joy lit up the oni girl’s _tanuki_ -wide eyes; Aria stepped towards her in the faint blue light with fountains roaring in her ears.

She paid for a double room at the front desk, and a little room service sushi. They’d hidden the worst bloodstains; the receptionist probably took them for a lady executive and her personal bodyguard, dishevelled from a long suborbital flight. 

Within room 264, Ayumi plopped her bulk right down on a spotless plush bed. Bounced on the mattress, grinning like a kid in mud. Then she started unstrapping her armour.

Her underwear was a black plus-sized sports bra and briefs. Unbound, her breasts were mountainous. Wide areola dark against red skin, like the shifting black flames of her hair…with some difficulty, Aria continued to breathe.

“Frag, this place is totally _Bellevue_. Trideo, minbar, triple-A security. Omnicare shampoo in little bottles…you think those curtains are Shiawase-made? Frag me, chica, is that a _Vashion_ bag you’ve got there?”

“It’s not this year’s line…” Aria glanced demurely aside, swinging her best handbag round for the oni razorgirl to ogle.

“Classy bag, for a lady with class. You got that novahot elvish mojo, you’re just such a _fox_ , Miss Aria …but when I get my big break, I’m getting a trog-sized bag just like that. Restaurant dinners every night, a little Tir wine and a whole cask of Hurlig. A little black dress by Moonsilver and a few novahot toyboys to help me out of it.”

“You are…quite the lady of parts, Ayumi. More exceptional than any handbag, I’d wager.”

“Hmm, handbags or shotguns–pleasure or survival–brand name quality is important, right?” Ayumi threw one chunky thigh over the other, and charmingly flapped a claw, “You and me weren’t made in no factory, though. Chip truth, I think the most Arctic, _radical_ thing trog girls can do in this fragging world is express their feminine side.”

The oni girl produced a knee-length white dress from her duffel bag, patterned with cherries. Smoothed it proudly over her tremendous curves; smiled cutely with her head on one side. Even through her kitty-heel shoes were cheap and boat-sized, her own prized handbag was a wretched imitation Gucci, and tusks protruded over her full lips like prison bars.

Learning some brand names, tragically, didn’t make an ex-Lone Star flatfoot a lady. In fact, the trog with delusions of class was a comedy staple from Portland to Richmond–the troll struggling with fine china, the ork debutante made-up like a drunken racoon. Aria certainly hadn’t left behind metaracism and snobbery when she’d left Tir Tairngire, but there was nowhere in world that didn’t show you the idiocy of both with a thousand examples.

That broad, hard face was marvelously sincere. No envy there for the perfect sexy elf girl, as some of Aria’s former friends had spat into her eyes. Only brass-bold gratitude, more pleasure in praising Aria than she even had in receiving, and hugely ardent desire for all that the world held. Except for the love her wretched captive panted to lay at her feet!

 _Oh, Totem of Cat, lone and wild lady of endless nights. Why did you bring this beautiful demoness into my life, and why, oh why, did she have to be_ straight?

Cat had told Aria to quit wageslaving for Renraku, and to take the Run that had made her fortune. Now she told her to follow her heart, in style.

Keeping her narrow violet eyes locked on Ayumi, Aria threw her handbag on the bed, then her jacket. Her shirt followed, once she’d undone the buttons one by one with unusual care. It was a tricky art to remove your own skirt and stockings sexily, through lying back and raising your lower body with your legs, but Aria was a flexible girl. Ayumi’s eyes went even wider; she softly clapped and whistled loudly.

“Frag, that’s amazing. You look so hot…so classy.”

Within the little room in the tremendous sprawl, elf and oni were naked. Aria dropped her arms from svelte breasts, their firmness trembled with her pounding heart. Ayumi had never been hiding anything.

“Yeah, we gotta have fun right now,” She whispered, “Enjoy ourselves even more than a few very lucky fellas are gonna enjoy us.”

“A few? Whatever you want, Ayumi…” Aria’s smile was quick and tremulous as a bird, “…though I think only one lover would be enough for me…”

“You deserve more than that. Men you pick up for one night are like Stuffer Shack food; cheap and easy, but you can never be satisfied with just one."

Aria had to laugh; the moment was broken. She said she would be in the shower; Ayumi applied herself to the room service sushi that came up with a drone, rather than joining her. 

-0-

“So…have you done this sort of thing before?” Aria called to Ayumi, from the en-suite shower.

Rubbing hot water over her scraped and sore places, shampoo into her night-black pageboy hair, she still wanted to hear the oni girl’s voice. She shivered, as the low, rich contralto slid through the door.

“A fair bit. Running from city to city, to kill or get betrayed–even if they ain’t psychos or chrome-heads, I don’t work with guys who can have regular relationships. Civilians don’t understand, don’t want to. Can’t pick up guys in Shadow bars, anyway, or I’d tank my rep as a serious Runner. They’d call me a groupie poser and a whore. Fragging double standard; _hate_ that macho bulldrek. Anyhow, I’m betting this ain’t your first rodeo either?”

“I worked for a megacorp, in my misspent youth. Compulsory overtime made it impossible to meet anyone outside of work, let alone maintain a meaningful romance. Hunting men through hotel bars for a night of pleasure once a month, seemed preferable to an ‘office romance’ with some chauvinist pig of a division chief.”

“Try Lone Star if you want to see real _pigs_. They hire SINless trogs to pound the worst beats day and night, until the gangers or chipheads geek them out of the gene pool. To beat on our own people for pocket nyuyen, then get axed whenever the newsfeeds start moaning about police brutality. I had frag-all life except for work, just like you said; even the trog guys in Lone Star were macho drekheads. The better I did with Judo, night-stick, shooting–better than most of them–the more they talked about nothing but tearing off the uniform and pumping five or six kids into me. I worked hard; I never put out for any guy at work. They still looked at me like some simsense slut dressed as a cop.”

Aria had been called a slut daisy eater, like every beautiful elf in the Sixth World, by work colleagues who’d joined her on nights out to enjoy a shaman’s protection but enjoyed being second choice for every man in every bar not at all. Other elves she’d done the same thing to had been even angrier. If she had dressed down a _lot_ , she might have had work friends, but she was a Cat shaman and she was Aria Landers; no one was going to stop her looking her best. There were no friends inside the megacorps, only competitors. Envy, however, was easier to bear than contempt.

“That sounds ghastly, Ayumi–is the twenty-first century, or isn’t it? My experiences as a shadowrunner in need of sex were also similar to your own, but I believe I got on a little better, since mage-shaman is something of a traditionally feminine role among Runners. I received the impression that female street samurai had a more difficult time, more to prove…?”

“CHIP TRUTH!” Aria felt Ayumi’s palm smack into the wall, “Runners were meant to be different and free, not like Lone Star, but they’re watching you, cold as spybots. Looking for any sign you’re a frag up–sure as frag, they’re watching the girls who think they can throw down and fight. You got to play a part, a woman of cold steel who don’t need no man–fragged if I could ever talk about handbags or sex with other Runners, like this.” 

“Ayumi…” Aria emerged from the shower, tanned limbs bare and dripping. Touched the door from her side, “…it is extraordinary we seem to have so much in common.”

“Hmm. If my folks had been a bit slower getting out of Japan, after the Yomi decree, could’ve been very different.”

“Or if you’d born in Tir–but then we’d have run away together. We would have escaped from Yomi island together, also.”

“Fragging A!” Ayumi threw the door open wide, still naked and grinning, “Two beautiful ladies here in Seattle, land of the brave and free! Frag it, let’s get down to that bar and have a night of real magic!

“Very few things takes more work than magic; trust me on this.” Aria managed to do no more than usher Ayumi towards the shower, “Fifteen minutes more, while you get ready and I touch up my makeup. Nearly all that Cat asks of her children is that they remain impeccably groomed.” 

Ayumi’s laughter boomed richly. Aria felt her heart flutter like a schoolgirl–felt Ayumi’s big eyes on her little round hoop, as she turned to the sink and started redoing her green mascara with a racing pulse.

She loved girls, she wanted Ayumi–but she did like men, and it had been months. Her own Talismongers really had devoured time and energy. It had been more convenient to spend a romantic evening with an Acute senses charm, some herbal candles, and a battery-powered device–even more pleasurable that most men had made her past one-night stands–but self-pleasure was inescapably predicable. The thrill of the hunt, the roll of the dice–the forever chance of crossing paths with one unimaginable lover, among the six million metahumans of the Emerald City. Of such dreams were trideo dramas and the women who consumed them made of; every heroine since the 20s had told them freedom and sex were their rights. If there was a cost, and there always was, true class meant placing your order without looking at the price. That thrill was even worth trusting a shadowrunner.

Too long, since she’d gone out to stuff herself with one-night love. Even longer, since she’d talked so freely of what made her angry, lonely and unsure, to one strange shadowrunner in a city of strangers. The price of friendship, or love, was too high even for dragons and CEOs. She’d trusted Ayumi to kill for her, shouldn’t ever have trusted with her back or her name, but she would’ve trusted this beautiful demon with her soul…

-0-

Aria wore strappy black heels, a deep blue Moonsilver minidress. Blood red lips in the mirror, tipped like a missile with the faintest smile, even as excitement blazed through bronze tan at the tips of two heart-filleting cheekbones. Elvish hair shone deeper than any silk on Earth, and Aria's wavering locks were cut short of her pointy ears like the modern independent professional she was. When you were an elf, you never needed anyone to say that you looked beautiful; perfect white teeth and foxy eyes still filled with smile when Ayumi said it.

The Runner had applied black makeup to red lips boldly and competently as spreads of buckshot into an enemy's face; Aria told her she looked absolutely divine. The oni girl’s dress swung over her knees like a bell, as she wiggled with pride. She’d picked out a table downstairs, while Aria had been finishing her makeup, with the least coverage from security cams. Aria considered calling up a hearth spirit to watch out for them, but she felt safe with Ayumi–and guardian spirits had an unfortunate tendency to mistake sex for violence. There was no more to do but shoulder their handbags and go down to the hotel bar together.

There were dark, plush seats; peach-coloured lighting, soft easy-listening Jazz. A few unobtrusive little holo-ads for NERPS or escort services. A charmingly attentive elf between a gaudy stock of drinks and the bar, who facilitated conversation by supplying any forgotten matter from a superb memory. The few female patrons chatting at the bar were all enthralled by this character; Aria and Ayumi recognised at a shared glance that this establishment’s crop of shirtsleeved _sararimen_ , flown into town for some meeting or conference, were fair game. Ties crooked, nursing their Scotches with the brutal thirst of the near-exhausted, their eyes had all settled briefly on Aria as she set shapely foot through the door, like wolves through a thicket waking up. 

Aria smiled up into Ayumi’s eyes, as they touched their glasses. Allowing that this wasn’t the place for Hurlig, Ayumi had asked for neat whiskey and Aria had got her a pricey one, though the moment felt simply priceless.

 _“Koban-wa, Shokun.”_ She turned a glittering yet self-possessed smile on two decent male prospects sitting at the _faux_ -wood bar, “Would you care to join us?”

"I believe we certainly would, ma'am. May I buy you both-another drink?" The older man showed the shine of premium dental care in his smile, and his intentions for the evening without the slightest pretence-confidence, take it or leave it, did put a shiver down Aria's spine and a warmth between her thighs. He was hardly attractive, even for a man, for all his visible hours in the company gym, but he at least had the old-time courtesy that seemed to be seeking a cigarette to light for her. Aria smiled, carefully re-crossed her endlessly perfect legs, and repeated her invitation with her eyes. As stuffer shack food, he and his younger colleague would do. 

With all the intelligent charm of an elf and a professional saleswoman, Aria was in her element. She knew what _sararimen_ liked; confidence, sophistication but not so much as to imply you were better than them. Ayumi, who was even taken for Aria’s bodyguard in her dress, let the elf girl take the lead. Carrying her truly felt satisfying, although convincing men that you desperately wanted to sleep with them (Not with the woman at your side, so close and yet so far), wasn’t teleportation magic.

It certainly didn’t require any magic charms, beyond a quick aura scan that revealed two soused and horny wageslaves–though Aria wasn’t in much shape for magic after her third whiskey. Every time Ayumi knocked one back, the men insisted on buying both girls a drink–flicking past ads on the menu-tablet for megacorp stocks, Noviagra, and everything in between necessary to a SINner’s happiness. The legends had been right that oni could take their liquor. Aria couldn’t, even for an elf, but by the time she’d got over Ayumi’s laughing eyes she couldn’t remember why that was any problem.

The men were a Mitsuhama junior exec who worked in sales in Hong Kong, already slightly balding and worn from long hours in his thirties. His assistant; an earnest young Chinese man who kept flashing his whitened teeth at Ayumi’s bosom. Both _sararimen_ were doubly surprised at the idea of privately enjoying the evening with a beautiful elf _and_ a she-trog; but Ayumi giggled, invitingly dipped her deep cleavage, and assured the gentlemen that they could do anything with her they wished. Both men decided in a rush of testosterone that human men and metahuman women wasn’t the kind of race-mixing Mitsuhama tacitly disapproved of.

“Dibs on first go with the younger guy.” Ayumi sniffed, as they took a short break in the ladies’ room to powder their noses, “Is that alright? Aria, are you alright?”

“Absholutely fine…and I’ve always preferred older men.”

“Huh, they’re good in bed or something? Hey, Aria, are you okay with orks? Sex-wise?”

“Oh, darling, yes…”

“I mean, did you see that big guy outside the Gents?”

“The ork? The janitor?”

“Yeah, he looked kind of hunky, and cleaning toilets must be a drekky job. Give me a few minutes, I’ll get him to join us upstairs. He’ll spice things up, and he’ll teach those wageslaves something. SINner or SINless, human or meta, man or women–don’t we all want sex, and shouldn’t it bring us all together, equal?”

“On the level…uh…horizontally?” Ayumi roared with laughter. Aria shook her head, smiling, “Ayumi, darling, you are really– _hic!_ –a most extraordinary character.”

The big ork mop-jockey was indeed finishing an especially drekky shift of a miserable job. Pinned against the wall by a voluptuous oni offering him the best sex of his life, and her classy elf friend thrown in–he allowed Ayumi to convince him that what his wife didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. 

Both of the men in the bar pressed one more whiskey on the increasing unsteady Aria–she barely remembered a discreet, simple charm to check it wasn’t spiked, for all that mattered. She felt their heat and smelt their readiness, as their discreetly roving hands supported her upstairs; both of them wanted her so direly, they were having trouble with walking themselves. That felt nice–hands firm of purpose on her hoop and stiff little breasts felt nice, now they had finally reached the room.

Undressing her together, whispering filthy things in her pointed ears…anticipation burnt through Aria’s flesh, warred with the whiskey fumes to coarsely overwhelm her. Smacking kisses on her thighs, painfully hard as pleasurable, bore through the mist.

Slumped down on the mattress in nothing but her shoes, head sickly spinning, she suspected the fingers thrusting into her slit would have hurt her–thank Cat the fingernails were trimmed–if she had been in a condition to feel anything but warmth or see anything but Ayumi. Everything good, good with everything, if only Ayumi was here…?

There she was. Mashing tusks and lips with her ork guy, grappling for dominance. Pushing his face down to mark her cleavage with love bites, deftly stroking his nape and shaved scalp. The oni girl needed no finesse from her lover, only passion. He smelt of nothing worse than cheap aftershave, boasted a fine broad chest–and it was an impressively thick rod Ayumi dragged from his pants, to skilfully twist her claw from head to base.

Responsively, Aria steadied the fingers slotting her with a slim hand. The groping slowed; a thumb started running over her clit. That was nice. She squirmed and purred a bit by way of encouragement, playing her part. Elf or ork, Runner or wageslave or libertine, living in the Sixth World was nothing else but.

Growling with need, the ork finally bore forward and flung Ayumi onto the other bed with a crash. Ripping away the cheap white dress–incandescent red skin seemed to burn it off–Ayumi growled and pleaded, for her big stud to make her his woman. Her face filled with lust pure and simple as a moment of enlightenment; Aria was still gazing on it when the younger guy pulled her upright and forced his tongue through her lips.

From instinct, Aria kissed back. Ran her finger down gym-sculpted chests to the organs she rubbed off, both at once, feeling the lust her body stoked–as Ayumi’s deep moans of pleasure filled her ears.

It was almost enough. Sex always had less of fulfilment than desire.

She glanced at her love again, smiling ridiculously wide. Ayumi grinned back at her, as her ork happily pounded away; into the slit that her crossed feet behind his sweat shining head had tightened. Aria’s gaze ran over her curling toe claws, the tree-trunk legs rolling down. To her rich belly and breasts, that shook from every thrust; gyrated back down to meet the next one, lovingly…

“Love you. Want you.”

The _sararimen_ with Aria growled that they wanted her, they loved her dripping dirty daisy. She was dripping, gushing, panting with the waves–the men laughed at how much she wanted them, pushed Aria down face-first on the matress. She came up on her hands and knees; stared through the mist over her violet eyes at Ayumi, as the men took up position between her legs and before her mouth.

Ayumi shouted at her ork to grab her breasts harder. Smack them. He smacked hard; she roared with pleasure. Aria envied her, as much as she wanted her. Envied the oni girl’s rough, tough body, as the older guy behind her, whose name she’d forgotten already, thrust into her from behind. He knew what he was aiming at–but Aria winced when his hands moved from her waist to smack her hoop and thighs. She wasn’t a masochist or a paid simsense actress, but even if she’d been sober enough to speak, some men didn’t listen when you said pain didn’t give you pleasure.

Self-preservation instinct pressed her hand to the younger guy’s stomach, so he didn’t start forcing it down her throat like he’d watched simsense stars pretend to enjoy. She licked down his shaft instead, glanced up as she took his head into her lips. His face was the dumb, worshipful joy that men usually wore in this situation, which was, as usual, rather gratifying. The older guy didn’t seem like he was going to finish before she did, even if her finish was drunken unconsciousness. Distant rising pleasure was all she could feel through the mist–not even whether the stranger who was slotting her from behind was wearing a rubber.

“Aria!” Ayumi’s faint voice. A claw, reaching out, “You okay, chica? Best night ever…?”

Aria wanted to tell her she’d had worse and better shags, and that scarcely one of them had matched that sound of a deep and loving voice. She wanted to tell Ayumi of everything she wanted in this busy, brutal world, and of all her fears, shames and regrets. She wanted to talk with the oni she loved until the sun came up…but she was aware of nothing more until the sun rose on her next waking, alone and in terrible pain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No mention is made of host clubs in 1Q84, which I believe are not exactly glorified bordellos in the real modern world. Aomine and Ayumi might have spent more money there, but might possibly still have had a better romantic experience than picking up the kind of tired, entitled businessmen you're likely to pick up in a hotel bar. 
> 
> No mention is made in 1Q84 of the notion that having anal sex with a woman who is too drunk to remember anything the next morning is not sex with consent.

Even an intelligent and independent twenty-first century woman, who had tackled Halloweeners, megacorps, and the worst the Sixth World could deploy…might be driven to try an impress a beauteous oni girl by matching her drink for drink. Forget the detox charm until she was too soused to cast it properly, and, in short, royally frag up.

Aria Landers crawled from her couch–thank Cat, she’d somehow woken up in her own apartment–towards her very own _toilette_. Pulling down as she went every coat and tasteful ornament that hadn’t already been on the floor when she’d woken up, to the feeling that her head would split open and disgorge its contents over the Shiawase fuchsia carpet before her stomach did. No; she had thankfully reached the porcelain idol in time to stick her pointy-eared head down it and puke up her stomach.

She’d felt rather less battered after killing the Halloweeners. Her delicate elvish body ached from every bruise spread over her bronzed skin, and down to her core. Even through the miasma pressing on her like a sea of sick, she could feel her totem’s anger at such disgraceful idiocy.

Cat’s favour and wrath were infinitely more fickle than what was reputed of other deities, however–after ten minutes of abasement, a Healthy Glow charm, _and_ an anti-hangover potion washed down with a mug of coffee, Aria felt physically much better. Not dead or dying, just so furious and ashamed. Ready to weep her eyes out, if it could’ve changed anything that nothing now could change.

She could barely remember anything of the night before, after she and Ayumi had picked up those three guys from the bar–but her groin and her jaw felt very painful. It had taken a spell to cleanse her hair of something that had set like glue. Her _derriere_ , quite frankly, felt as if a huge ork had gone crazy in it. She wasn’t opposed to anal sex on principle, far from it, but with inadequate lube and less delicacy, it hurt like frag the morning after.

The box of condoms in her handbag was mockingly untouched. As far as she knew, three strangers had slotted her in all three holes without one of them wearing a rubber. Evidently, while she’d been blackout drunk.

She’d gone looking for sex–for mindfully giving pleasure and receiving it. Men had taken what she would never have given, while she was too drunk to say no, and not even left her with memory. Had they known what they were doing? Had they known the beautiful, self-assured elf wizard they were slotting would feel like this when she knew? Furious. Ashamed. Violated.

But she still had to whip up a Morning After spell in the next few hours. Go down to the local clinic and get tested for STIs, once her legs would support her–some hideously virulent strains had come out of Hong Kong. She would have to call her shop assistant and close up Aria’s Magical Oddities for days–no, for the day. Last night had been an expensive disaster, on top of everything else.

Complaining to the chauvinist pigs of Lone Star would be useless, especially when she’d approached the men herself–Sixth World society boasted in its strong professional women, and the stigma falling on any of them still stupid enough to get violated while helplessly drunk was vicious as ever. Quietly engaging shadowrunners to cripple or kill rapists was considered much more reasonable than such worthless hopes as the courts or media (the poor could do nothing, the powerful get away with anything; that never changed). Aria, however, hadn’t the nyuyen or the heart for such a severe course. None of these actions were a magic cure for her pain, and her shame, where something had been ripped from the depth of her person and spirit–but nothing ever would be.

In the course of her life, she’d been assaulted before. By strangers as a Runner, by a trusted colleague as a wageslave–never raped. She had to tell herself she had not really been raped, if she was to go on being an elf clothed in dignity and strength, worthy of her own respect. Lies could save a lot of pain. You killed, or worse, received wounds–or worse–you lost precious chummers and took part in terrible horrors–but you had to live on. That was really what was so horrible about it.

She still had to feed the cat. Bastet hopped onto her lap, purring hungrily, tilting her black head with innocent concern. Aria stroked her with one hand and wiped her tears with the other.

Like probing a polluted wound, she fought to remember anything else. Memory restoring charms were specialised, expensive magic…all that burned through the fog was Ayumi’s demonically joyful face. Ayumi who should have protected her…Ayumi, who must have somehow brought her home? No, she couldn’t have known the address. Aria didn’t even know her comm number…she only knew, through the toxic mess of sex, violation, rage, frustration, and pain that poisoned the best of life into the worst…that she couldn’t hate Ayumi, whatever she’d done.

Ayumi could tell her what had happened. The Fixer would have her number. Aria was still staring at her PDA five minutes later, when it went off.

-0-

“ARIA! Last night was novahot, amazing, the best–! _Frag_ , I mean, are you okay, chica? It looked like you’d had a few too many…”

“You might say that. I can remember very little of last night altogether.”

“FRAG! Is that really a thing?”

“For elves and humans, yes, darling.” Aria held the comm further away from her throbbing head, “How did you get this number?”

“Off the Fixer. You weren't getting home yourself, no way; I wasn’t dragging you back through Tacoma to this drekhole where I hang my holster. Frag, big scary oni, dragging a beautiful passed-out lady through Bellevue? I’d have got shot by Lone Star, take it from me. The Fix called you a cab, gave me your number, said she’d add it to your next bill. Guess it’s not the usual thing, for Runners and Johnsons…guess we left that miles behind, last night.”

The knowing sweetness that dripped from the words made Aria’s ears twitch, her breath catch–her soreness grow warm and wet. Last night, could they have possibly, joy of lost joys…?

She knew she would get the truth and the whole truth. Ayumi loved to talk; she could contain herself as far as professional discretion went, but had no filter at all, when it came to sex, between big mouth and simple, love-ful brain.

“Frag, last night was _amazing_.” Ayumi warbled on, “ _Crazy_ good. How could you ever forget! Right, I’ll fill you in. We met up outside the Halloweener’s drekky hideout–”

“I rather doubt I’ll ever forget that; we hadn’t even started drinking then. I remember the bar, going back to the room…Ayumi, can you remember if those guys used protection?”

“Oh, Aria! They fragging did. Soon as that bald bastard got his pants off, behind you, I threw a pack of durex at his chest, and a look–he covered up. I mean, frag, you know chlamydia can stop you from ever being a mother? Men have had the pill for ten, fifteen years, but would you trust guys like that if they said they were on it?”

“Not bloody likely.” Aria shifted her elvish mid-Atlantic accent all the way to England; Ayumi oohed and laughed. She was laughing as well for warm, blessed joy.

“No man, no stranger, goes in me without a rubber–in me, or in any of my friends.” Ayumi growled on, “Rule one–but, frag, I should’ve seen how wasted you were, chica! I’m sorry, it seemed like you were having a good time…!”

“Ayumi, if you had a good time, then _everything_ is good with me.” Aria crossed her bare legs and treated her commlink to a shining smile. “My beautiful bodyguard. My hero, who never left me unprotected.”

“Ah, the way you talk, Miss Aria!” She could hear her love’s huge grin, “And you can bet your pointy ears I had a great time. Frank was totally _rutting_ in me, with that big monster–he needed it so bad, he sort of finished before me, and he wasn't so good at eating me out, I had to rub myself off to finish–but that ork really had heart, and cock. He just gave it all to me, simple, sweet and hard. Made me really feel like a woman.”

“…Frank was the ork?”

“Yeah. Really sweet boy; why are all the good ones married? Anyway, you had those two wageslaves from the bar, you know, spitroasting you pretty good. You sucked that cute Chinese boy off in about three minutes–you naughty elf!–but you were moaning and curling those pretty shoulders up, before the bald bastard slotting you from behind got his rocks off. Guess experience really counts, if you get paid enough to slot a load of hookers behind your wife’s back…you really don’t remember any of it?”

“No…it was just an orgasm. I can always make more.”

“I bet. So, the guys had all blown their loads, we all had another drink from the minibar–that must’ve really finished you off–but I was just buzzed, and raring to really get started. I kind of thought we could put on a show, to get the guys going again. The pigs at Lone Star used to call me dyke trog, obviously, when it wasn’t slut cop…I hated that. You just looked so sexy, though, Miss Aria, a real shining slice of elvish beauty. I couldn’t think of anything but it feeling so right…”

“…what did?”

Aria’s delicate fingers clenched over her mouth. She tried not to scream for joy. Memory broke through the darkness like Slo-mo lightning.

“We just kissed to start off with. You kind of really got into it–chip truth, you’re a novahot kisser–your hot little tongue was stroking the back of my throat before I knew which way was up. Then I sort of grabbed your hair, like a guy would, and pushed you down…I just though the guys would go wild if we _pretended_ to do some dykey stuff, but my hand must’ve slipped! I'm sorry...”

“Did you…enjoy it?” Aria savoured the words around her curling tongue, like a red cherry.

“You were the fragging best. I’ve been with guys who really knew how to eat out, but none of them were…gentle like you. Loving. You loved all around my clit until I was moaning, then you took it between two beautiful lips and, ooooh, I SCREAMED! For you…I mean, the room must’ve been fragging soundproof, or we’d have had the whole hotel in there! Frag, you were so good, did you go through a _phase_ or something, in magic college?”

“…something of the sort.” Aria smiled up at the painting of Sappho and Erianna over her bed, soulfully cavorting over a white Grecian beach. “I imagine the men were suitably inspired?”

“There was fragging nearly some bloodshed over your hoop–Frank would’ve won, of course. I sorted them out through grabbing the other two guys by the dicks; chucking Frank another rubber…and a jar of lube.”

“…I suppose you were both rather excited?”

“Couldn’t have knocked him down with hammer–this sounds a bit weird, but if I were a guy, I’d carve through an army to slot that gorgeous hoop of yours, Miss Aria. But I just got to watch Frank gasping for it, as I made fragging sure he fingered you up nice and ready, then thumping away all through your little body. You were making happy noises, I was sucking and rubbing off two guys at once, you were still taking me to heaven on your tongue–it was the _best_ , the sexiest moment of my life! I came like a fragging tsunami for you! If only we’d had a _camera_ , it would’ve paid for the room–we could’ve bought the hotel! But you can’t remember…? You were that drunk, oh, FRAG, FRAG, FRAG, I’m so sorry…!”

“What did I tell you, Ayumi? If it makes you happy, I am happy for you.” Aria shifted her weight from her aching fundament, but set her lips firmly, “When I say that I mean it; if I had been stone cold sober, I would’ve plainly told that you could do with me whatever you wished. I assure you I will stay sober for my next assignation, however, as least sufficiently to remember such pleasure the next morning, and insist on a _smidge_ more lubrication. I’m not a big, tough girl like you, _capisce_? Though it was resourceful of you to have some to hand.”

“In my handbag, right next to the condoms. Girl has to be prepared.” Ayumi sounded breathlessly grateful for Aria’s forgiveness, “I finally twigged you were gone when I came out from under that force ten climax. You were coming with me, I think so hard you fainted–it felt incredible, like two perfect orgasms at once–Frank had to pull out, pull the rubber off, spurt all over your back.

"I was telling him off; I nearly missed the older guy–the bald bastard–squatting over your hoop without a rubber. I told him, no; you were unconscious. He called me a slut trog with his spunk running down my boobs. Said he’d pay me and Frank a thousand nyuyen each to frag off.”

“…did you kill him?”

“Felt like it. Put him in a finger lock that made him squeal like a _girl_ , then threw him out. Threw his clothes and stuff out into the hallway, so he didn’t bring any trouble.”

“My _heroine_. What about his colleague?”

“I said he could slot me in the hoop if he stuck around. So much for guy solidarity, right?” Ayumi had resumed–and maintaining–her usual cheery tones. “I cleaned you up a bit and put you to bed on your side. Then I took care of the guys. Bent over to suck Frank off with my hoop-a-loop wiggling in the air–until the young guy grabbed onto both boobs, finally made himself a man. He squeezed my nipples until they actually _hurt_ , then he was yanking my head back by my ponytail, still going hard and fast in my hoop. Frank was slotting me to the back of my throat, calling me a filthy whore who’d wrecked his marriage...he wasn’t wrong about that, exactly. I felt like a simsense star–I was nothing but pain and pleasure, I needed to come like I needed to breathe! BEST NIGHT EVER!”

“...Ayumi, darling. Did you _enjoy_ that? It honestly sounds horrible.”

“Huh. You’d rather have a cute elf gigolo licking all the way up from your feet, Miss Aria?”

“I might not mind a partner who liked it a bit rough, but I don’t like pain. I don't like being unsafe. I absolutely don’t like the idea of you being in pain, or unsafe.”

“Oh, chica, don’t worry about me! I had my hands free; I could’ve tied those two guys in a knot, if they hadn’t been giving me just what I needed. Smacking my boobs and my hoop redder than red; the pain was so exciting! I think I'm honestly a bit of a masochist, and trogs can stand the pain, you know? I came so hard from my hoop, I was lit up like fire, and then they slotted me in both holes, no rest, no mercy. They wanted me too much for that; I didn't want anything but getting loved and slotted. When I came from both holes at once, I thought I would die. So exciting!”

“Then you need boundaries,” Ayumi laughed at the joke, but Aria wasn't joking, “Safe words. A partner you can trust.”

“Shadowrunners–girls like us–don’t get to have many guys we can trust, remember? Anyway, throwing that bald bastard out had turned me on again–turned the guys on as well–and I wasn’t going to be the scary-bitch bull-dyke trog who ended the party there. I don't have to be, when I'm a beautiful slut getting a good slotting from both ends; when I feel pain, when I feel like a woman. Really wanted. I am kind of a slut, though that's for me to say, not those Lone Star pigs. I like boys, Miss Aria. I like cock.”

Aria got the picture. The red-green jealous-furious image of two drunken brutes ravaging her beloved. Her merry mouth, her rich hoop, her beautiful breasts. Her heart that had offered them the pleasure they had taken with heartless abuse. Nothing stoked men’s lust, in the end–other than a helpless, unconscious woman, too often–more than the spent emptiness when they had just killed their marriages or careers for an hour of happiness and could still kill their souls with pleasure for a few hours more. Lust was a spiral with no bottom, particularly when a big-hearted demon like Ayumi led the way.

As for Ayumi, it had dawned on Aria that her love’s idea of what it was to be a woman had come from megacorp-made commercials and trideo on one hand–the conversation of a precinct-full of porn-consuming macho Lone Star flatfoots on the other. Women who loved women weren’t persecuted or even hated in the Sixth World–but a bull dyke Lone Star trog was a cliché, and one thing Ayumi would never knowingly be was a cliché. The novahot Runner who could outshoot or fight any man; the good-time girl bearing her heart for the world to crush, as it so easily did for all women. She’d done so much, tried so hard, and Aria knew she deserved the tender love a banished orphan had never known. Locked up for her in an elvish heart.

"I want you to be happy, Ayumi. Please..."

"You made me happy; I'm happy just talking to you. I'm going to stay alive and keep you safe, any time you need. Do you...want to hear the rest?"

Overwhelmed with sweet sorrow, Aria could only nod.

“…so, after the young wageslave guy had finished in my hoop, he ran off to try and save his job. Then I told Frank that the slut who’d led him astray from his wife needed some punishment. He smacked me around the room a few times; I asked him if he’d ever hit a woman before, if he’d ever raped a woman..."

"Ayumi, NO!"

"It was okay, chica! He was about to break my one rule–but he couldn’t. He broke down, bawling his eyes out, saying he was a monster and ought to be dead. Told you he was a good guy; weird, but good.”

“Ayumi, you, you…what if he _hadn’t_ been?”

“Don’t worry. Trogs are tough–we can take anything. Like Frank had been taking drek all his life for being a SINless trog, with two drek jobs that can hardly feed his kids, and his wife working all hours in a bar, so they hardly had a marriage left. He’d been keeping all that down inside, it had to explode one day–I’m glad it was me who took the blast, not his wife, his kids or anyone else. We sat up for hours, I let him talk and cry as much as he wanted, like a real big sister. He’s going to cut down work hours for a bit, be good to his wife; make love to her the way she likes it. Talk about it when he feels weak, listen to her when she feels down, maybe save his marriage; I gave him some of the money from feeling those Halloweeners, to help with that. He was so good, I let him shove oneesan's face into the wall and give her hoop some sweet punishment, one last time. It was amazing. And doesn't it show there's some guys left in this drekky world–apart from corp bastards who own the world and still want to slot my chummer in the hoop–that aren't so bad at all?"

"...some people, indeed. Some too good for this world."

One who would be a perfectly designed abuse victim, Aria thought, if she wasn't a 300 lb martial arts master who knew what she liked, and liked a great deal of sex–no, she simply loved to take care of everybody. A chaos demon, a shadowrunner facing death with a big smile and open heart...the Oni girl she wanted to love and protect more than she'd ever wanted anything.

So when Ayumi went on to say that they _had_ to do this again sometime–in fact, her Fixer had booked her in for a big Run she couldn't talk about next week, so she'd buy the drinks and choose the place this time, and pay for the soaked, shredded mess she'd made of the Imperial hotel's beds, in installments, _of course–_ Aria told her without a thought that she'd pay for all the damage, and two weeks' time was a date.

Her head was throbbing as she ended the call, but her heart was dancing lightly. She was smiling as she finally got Bastet her premium-brand catfood, not even considering that her love might be dead or fleeing far from Seattle in two weeks' time.

-0-

Two weeks had finally passed, so full to the rafters with sales, orders and negotiations that Aria even forgot Ayumi's face for sometimes ten minutes altogether. As much as the sight of her beautiful aura and the laugh in her voice, as much a good satisfying slot, she really needed a break.

With _Ayumi_ choosing the venue this time, Aria braced herself for she-knew-not-what. It turned out to be a host bar in the mid-range part of Tacoma, with a little wine for her, plenty of little pink 45% cocktails for Ayumi, and a couple of charming blonde men with sharp suits and soft smiles. An elf who made them laugh with his knowing wit; a man with vat-job muscles, who went down on one knee to take their order. Who made them blush with diffident compliments that didn't quite hide a healthy male desire. Who were very ready to accompany their ladies to a nearby hotel which charged by the hour, in consideration of a very large tip.

"You're sure this isn't one of those places–?"

"–where the guys have cybereyes set to record, or simsense transmitters? Checked with an old chummer from Lone Star. I'm not gonna be the last thing some brain-burned chiphead sees, or star in some pornshow all over the Matrix. You ain't either, chica."

Even in these free and easy days, there were 20th century style host clubs that weren't exactly glorified bordellos, but the Sixth World was a mad and glossy one. Going to hell so fast that men and women both needed a quick fix. Aria didn't normally like paying for it, but while sleeping around made Ayumi a whore, not a shadowrunner, _buying_ men made her one of the guys. It wasn't much more expensive than drinks and a hotel room in Bellevue, not that Ayumi was worried about nyuyen–holding her right arm stiffly after a week, even if a medkit had saved it, she was determined to make the night worthy of her last. Even if it would be more predictable, possibly even safer, than Bellevue, but Aria was chill with that.

And, this time, a night to remember. Aria threw a smile over her shoulder as Ayumi removed tonight's flowing blue dress from her body. Tilted her head back for her love to kiss her from behind, pressing claws all the way down her moon-slim, impossibly female body.

"You're such a beauty, Miss Aria," Ayumi breathed softly, over her pretty little tusks, "I'd want to be you, if I wasn't me."

The hosts didn't strictly need encouragement to do what they'd been paid for, but they were men. An alluring, voluptuous Oni, fondling the delicate elf girl buried between her breasts...Aria heard their breath quicken, heard Ayumi growl in delight as she heard.

Then she whispered 'save me'. The men were instantly pulling the sexy beast away from her; guiding Ayumi's huge and flame-red curves down to the queen-sized bed. Aria told them both what to do with their prize in firm, merciless tones, as Ayumi giggled and stroked her own breasts with invitation and challenge. _Pleasure me more pleasure than my wonderful life, and my wonderful friend._

She threw her head back, so the man who squatted above her could thrust to the back of her throat, as he stroked round her big, rich nipples. While the elf slithered between her legs; licked and sucked until she poured out over his face. Then hefted her legs and slotted her with the mindful, measured pacing of a master.

A spell burst from Aria's hand with a scent of hot stones and musk; both men visibly grew stronger, faster, harder. Ayumi 'mmph'ed her delight. Then Aria carefully dropped something invisible over Ayumi's breasts, with a scent of jasmine. As she wove the same charm over herself, every sensation grew more acute; each thread in the smooth mattress, the pounding blood in her veins. Ayumi's happy moans, as her eyes rolled back in her head. Aria snapped at the man above Ayumi's face to go less deep; pain would be 

With the degrading scenes of Bellevue fresh in her non-rememberence, Aria remained upright, only kissing and fondling the man whose cojones Ayumi was sucking on between her squeals and gasps of rapture. With the sensitisation charm fresh, she had to go slow for a minute. The minute gone, he would have fingered her slit as well, if she hadn't been rubbing herself off so hard that she broke a nail, before she squirted out over Ayumi's shaking breasts. Screaming in ecstatic frustration.

The human host's heavily augmented manhood was actually throbbing, as he finally got her on her hands and knees. Firmly filled up her magically overstimulated slit, and thrust to her core until she cried, drooled, begged. It was very nearly the best slot she'd had from a man in her life, but she never let go of Ayumi's claw.

They'd paid for another hour, at a large discount, which Aria felt entitled the hosts to a bit more encouragement. Flushed and gasping as she squatted on the elvish gigolo's mouth–gazing into Ayumi's eyes as she bounced on his big bioware cock–roaring for joy, spraying sweat from her cherry-sweet flesh–she put a hand beneath love's midnight hair and drew her lips to her own.

You couldn't kiss an oni carelessly, because of the fangs; it had to be mindful, and heartfelt. Her red lips were smooth like a woman, strong like a man; a hint of blackcurrant lipstick beneath the sour taste of so many men. Game as ever, Ayumi pushed her rough, powerful tongue toward Aria's throat. The elf moaned with desire and pawed at her oni girl's big, leaping breasts. Her neck and her arms were towers of strength, for her protection. The firm breasts within them yielded under her hands, like a tender heart; the warm whirlpool dragging her far from care and breath. 

Ayumi moaned with joy; but not for her. Aria could feel that the host taking Ayumi in the hoop–one unnaturally huge cock could never be enough for her–had been strongly encouraged. But her beloved demon's charm-drugged eyes were on her. She met that huge grin happily, and let it devour her whole.

 _I can do anything when I'm with you, chummer,_ Ayumi's dark starry eyes sang out, _No shame, no secrets, no fear. Love me as I am, chica. My perfect friend._

"Love you...."

"Love you too, chummer! Best night ever."

Both woman held each other and felt a triple orgasm erupt through their bodies. No cybernetic link could have tied their obliterated selves in such a close, firm knot as love.

The four of them briefly rested on the warm, damp mattress, in a golden cloud of afterglow. The elf host told Ayumi he didn't mean to offend, but he knew some people in the simsense industry. If her girlfriend had no objections, she could easily be the next–

"Oh, we ain't like that, stud! What we've got as gal pals is deeper. And I'm flattered, but slotting for money, who and how I'm told? What do _you_ think of it?"

"You compartmentalise." The host offered, "My girlfriend doesn't mind how I pay the bills. You can pick and choose clients at the top of the game; though of course, I'd stand ready to serve you two ladies at any time. As in everything, adapt and survive."

"Yeah, but not for a job you don't enjoy. Never."

The host's tired smile was finally less than sincere. Ayumi and Aria both knew the hosts were almost certainly trapped in debt to the Yakuza, who ran Tacoma's sex industry from the Bunraku dens, through the host clubs and simsense studios, to the 10,000 nyuyen sex-magic courtesans. Once the earth shaking climaxes had burnt out, it left, as it were, a bad taste in the mouth.

Aria wondered if the Euphoria spell, in conjunction with lesbian sex, could change Ayumi's sexuality. She had the most addictive personality Aria had seen outside a BTL den, though she had never been on drugs; and calling her a nymphomaniac, if all the men who had frenziedly slotted her were sane, upstanding citizens, would have been most unjust. As magical brainwashing, however willing Ayumi might have been to try it once, would be simply unforgivable.

She hadn't dared to go further than kissing Ayumi, sober; Ayumi had loved it, but asked for nothing more. Was there one other line that the oni girl hesitated to cross?

"Ayumi, darling?" The Oni girl had thrown a kelvar trenchcoat over her flowery sundress, as they waited for separate taxis, watching the rain, "Lone Star wasn't a job you enjoyed, but you still wanted to clean up the streets, and do some good? There might be another way."

"Maybe I really wanted to be the best I could be; the strongest woman. I was the best, and I'll be the best in the Shadows. I'll do all the good I can in this drek world, but still...my parents were Oni, but they were truly Japanese. Every human in Japan couldn't be wrong, casting out the demons–it was their fault for being born with horns. Their fault for running away with their baby daughter. It was easier to hate themselves than the most powerful, rotten nation in the world. They were cowards."

"My parents believed they had nothing to fear except everything beyond Tir Tairngire's border, including their mad fool of a daughter. I do know that the Japanacorps run on that thinking you described. Change yourself before you change the world, to adapt to a world both inhuman and unfair. Even before the Awakening, unless you were at the top of the food chain, that idea left something to be desired."

"It's bulldrek. This is Seattle, the Sixth World; I'm going to live just as I want. First week on the job at Lone Star, there were officers forcing sex stuff out of poor stray chicas; 'I'll tear up the citation, if you get me off' I was so fragging mad, I nearly beat them to drek; hope I fragging scared them drekless. But I don't want to be a hard scary trog bitch, even if this drek world needs one. I want to be strong _and_ beautiful, and kind. You know, there were a few hot guys with speeding tickets or something; sometimes I tore the citation up and let them give me a slot, right there in my uniform. Evens it out, maybe...like I said, I'll do just what I want."

"That does explain why you no longer work for Lone Star." _Apart from your sub-par observational skill regarding besotted bisexual brunettes..._ "I mean you were unsuited to them. Wasted on them."

"It was, what you said, my misspent youth. I did some really dumb things...I'll tell you why I really got shitcanned sometime. I learnt, I'm serious about Shadowrunning, now, for my chummers' sake. I like the job better, and I like staying alive." 

"Yes, Ayumi. Take it seriously, and stay alive. It would perhaps be a kinder world if sex was the solution to every difficulty, but it isn't...or perhaps it would not?"

"It's an itch that can be well and truly scratched. I killed half-a-dozen fraggers last week, my chummers nearly got killed. No reason I'll ever know except whatever was in that box making the richest fraggers on the planet a little richer. Fraggers if that should be an ordinary day at the office for anyone. Frag ordinary, for me and for you, Miss Aria. We deserve better. Cities, megacorps, they were made for metahumans; you're worth more than every one if them. Our nights and days should be novahot and wild as we can make them. Everything you want, everything you are."

"Ayumi..." Aria's cab had pulled up. She drew her soft coat around her, raised up her face, "...will I see you again?"

"Chip truth you will, chica. Two weeks time?"

"One week. We don't have to do anything extraordinary, to be extraordinary. We could just go to a club, or a cafe, or shopping...as good friends?"

"Two gal pals together. That sounds just fine, Miss Aria."


End file.
